


Burn With Me

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Embarrassment, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Nudity, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 21:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19981150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Doctor thinks two suns and temperature are one and the same, leading to a bad case of sunstroke.





	Burn With Me

Donna and the Doctor were having a nice relaxing day on Brighton Beach. Donna had to confiscate his Sonic Screwdriver, as he kept picking up the little rocks and scanning them.  
  
“We are here to have fun and sunbathe,” she reminded the Oncoming Sulk.  
  
Donna switched from her sunglasses to her large straw hat, and began applying suntan lotion. Once she was done she held the bottle out in front of the Doctor.  
  
“No, I’m good,” The Doctor stated, taking the bottle and putting it down.  
  
“It’s a 30-degree day,”  
  
“I grew up in a desert with 2 suns, I think my skin can manage,” the Doctor claimed.  
  
It took 20 minutes of wearing his coat on one arm, before the Doctor finally allowed himself to take it off, and unbutton his suit jacket.  
  
10 more minutes passed, and the Doctor had removed his jacket and tie, and unbuttoned his white shirt. Donna smiled at the sight of his skinny white chest.  
  
“Still think I’m too skinny?” The Doctor questioned, smirking with his tongue touching the roof of his mouth in his classic cheeky way.  
  
“Yes. But in an endearing way,” Donna complimented, tickling the Doctor. She then began stroking it until he purred, and fell asleep.  
  
  
Donna was reading Agatha’s book about the Vespiform incident, when she heard a small whimper.  
  
“ _burning..it’s burning through me_ ,” the Doctor muttered in his sleep.  
  
Donna put down her book and touched the Doctor’s arm in concern. She quickly removed it, as it was scolding hot. The Doctor squirmed, attempting to get more cold air onto his chest and arms.  
  
Donna stroked the Doctor’s sticky-uppy hair out of his forehead, and saw a big patch of sweat. Tapping one finger at it, she felt more heat. She instantly placed two large icepacks on his head and chest. Both slowly began steaming as they cooled down the Time Lord. The Doctor slowly opened his eyes, groaning.  
  
“Donna? Where’s the fire?” he asked, imagining it as the only explanation for his acute feverish-ness.  
  
“There isn’t one. You just began boiling!” Donna explained with worry.  
  
“How hot is it?!” the Doctor asked, confused.  
  
“Warm enough. I think you’ve got sunstroke. Come on let’s get you to the TARDIS,” Donna remarked in sympathy. She took out her TARDIS key and held it up to summon the TARDIS. The ship perceptively materialised around them, leaving the soon-to-be Roast Beef, Time Lord laying right next to the console.  
  
Donna ran to the sickbay and found a large cluster of ice-packs, apparently meant to cover the entire body. Getting a large wet towel as well, she ran back to the Doctor and wrapped him in the cold, like a popsicle, before carrying him to his bedroom. The AC had been automatically set to max. by an equally worried TARDIS. The Doctor was placed on the bed, as Donna grabbed a thermometer from the bathroom.  
  
“Now, tell me, Spaceman, how warm are Time Lords usually?” she asked, not knowing a thing about Gallifreyan thermo-regulation.  
  
The Doctor hugged his icepacks desperately before answering, “I wouldn’t call it warm. Our base temperature’s 15 degrees Celsius. Like a spring day,”  
  
Donna looked at the thermometer’s digits. It said 40.  
  
“Oh My God. You should’ve had on DOUBLE sunblock, dumbo! You’ve got a 25-degree fever,” Donna chastised, grabbing a fan and putting it next to his head.  
  
“Now, all you need is some rest, and NO putting on your coat again, I don’t care how much you like it. You need to be cooled down,” Donna instructed, stroking the Doctor’s cheek before kissing it.  
  
“You’re not leaving me again, are you?” the Doctor said, with the widest puppy-dog eyes Donna had ever seen.  
  
“Just for one minute, to get a book on Time Lord medicine and some lemonade. You need fluids to support all that sweating,” Donna informed him.  
  
“But I’ll be right back,” she promised, kissing his forehead and hurrying out of the room. the Doctor settled on staring up at the stars in the ceiling of his room, reciting their names and supernova dates in his head.  
  
The book Donna found stated the following about sunstroke, “The likelihood of sunstroke in a Gallifreyan who travels to other realms is high, due to their low internal body temperature. Fortunately, Time Lords are highly capable of compensating for not only extreme cold, but extreme heat. While it may be painful, a long period of rest, and ventilation through applied ice or air, will do just as much good as any primitive Earthling”.  
  
Through Donna lifting him up, the Doctor managed to swallow every sip of the lemonade.  
  
“Hmm..I feel a slight pain. That’s odd,” he muttered in exhaustion.  
  
“Where? Where does it hurt, Doctor?” Doctor Donna asked, aimlessly touching his limbs to check.  
  
“Right down.. oh, never mind,” the Doctor moaned, reaching for more ice packs next to him, which Donna instantly applied. She stroked his stomach in circular motions until he fell asleep, purring like a newborn kitten. Donna then simply, turned off all the lights and left, hoping intently for his recovery.  
  
********************************  
12 Hours Later…  
  
The Doctor woke up. He felt his legs stiff and aching, wondering what happened the night before, and then remembering it was still the same day, only much later. He vaguely recalled feeling like a hotdog.  
  
“DONNAAA!” he screamed her name, sitting up and wiggling uncomfortably. Donna ran in, looking for the Doctor’s stuffed Zygon, before spotting it next to him.  
  
“What happened and why am I covered in water?”  
  
“We were at the beach, and you got sunstroke. The water’s sweat. How do you feel?” Donna asked, seeing he was sitting up.  
  
“Better. My body feels less..burn-y..my legs still ache, though,” The Doctor noted, eyes circling the wetness around him.  
  
Donna grabbed his legs and massaged them. Whilst trying to shuffle out of the wet spot, the Doctor made an observation.  
  
“But, hold on..this puddle only goes from my knees to my hips. That’s odd..and the ice-packs are only half-empty,” the Doctor frowned in confusion. Donna noticed the same thing, and got equally interested. She touched the spot to see if the Doctor spilt some lemonade earlier, without her seeing. _But it **looked** like water_.. she sniffed her damp hand. It smelt acidic.  
  
“Does your sweat usually smell like this?” she asked, putting her hand up to the Doctor’s nose.  
  
“No,” he replied simply before it hit him. His eyes widened as he recognized what _did_ smell like that. Checking once more with his hand, and having his suspicion confirmed, the Doctor banged his head lightly on the wall, covering his face in disbelief.  
  
“What is it?” Donna asked with concern. The Doctor sighed and opened his eyes, partially looking away solemnly.  
  
“It’s not sweat..” he stated.  
  
“What is it then?”  
  
The Doctor winced and blushed.  
  
“Urine. Also known as _pee_ ,” he remarked, dryly. A few tears appeared in his eyes.  
  
“Oh..” Donna muttered, looking at him with sympathy, stroking his arm comfortingly.  
  
“Sorry,” he apologized. Donna shook her head dismissively.  
  
“You have nothing to be sorry about. Don’t worry about it. It’s the sort of thing that happens when you’re sick. The body decides to remove _everything_. And I shouldn’t have let you sleep right after having that lemonade,” Donna assured him.  
  
“I’m 900 years old,” the Doctor huffed.  
  
“And even 900-year-old adults can have accidents,” Donna reassured him firmly.” As she cleared the ice packs off of him in preparation for changing the bedsheets, Donna could clearly see the yellow wetness of the Doctor’s underpants.  
  
“Can you walk? You need to get out for a minute, while I take off the sheets,” Donna asked carefully. The Doctor nodded, and cautiously slid himself off the bed, leaned on a chair before slumping down in it, taking deep breaths while Donna dealt with the bed.  
  
Donna then lifted up the Doctor by his arms, and gently guided him to the bathroom so _he_ could get clean.  
  
“Are you strong enough to shower on your own, or should I help you in the tub?” Donna asked kindly. The Doctor went full red in the face, attemptively flexing his arms to feign strength, despite wishing 100% that it would be a bath.  
  
“Bath it is then,” Donna decided. She took a deep breath before informing the Doctor how it would need to happen.  
  
“Now, I need you to take off those pants. Don’t worry, I’ll turn around until you’re in the bath, and I promise not to look more than necessary.”  
  
The Doctor nodded, waited for her to turn around, and then stripped and stepped in the tub. Donna handed him a bar of soap and let him scrub himself, only looking at his top half, until he got further down, at which point she was forced to ensure that he got his _timey-wimey thing_ properly clean.  
  
The Doctor remained red in the face throughout, the blush only dissipating when Donna handed him a rubber duck. For play, as well as to cover up his privates..  
  
The Doctor managed to walk moderately easily back into his new clean bed.  
  
“No more lemonade,” he reminded her.  
  
“Of course not, but we still need to cool down your body some more. How about some ice cream?” Donna suggested.  
  
“Brilliant! Just, no ginger. At all,” the Doctor replied, waving a finger firmly.  
  
“Why not? It helped you with the detox,” Donna noted.  
  
“In small doses, yes it can help with illness, BUT in large doses, to a Time Lord, it’s essentially alcohol. It makes me drunk. And as stated before, I don’t need another reason to wet the bed,” the Doctor explained.  
  
Donna nodded and came back with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Whilst discussing the biology behind the detox the Doctor went through in the 20s, Donna remembered what the Doctor said at the beach right as the sunstroke hit him.  
  
“At the beach, you mumbled ‘it’s burning through me’, and it seemed like you were dreaming, not just reacting to the fever. Has something like this happened before? Maybe with Rose?” Donna asked, wondering about previous beach trips he might have taken.  
  
“Martha. Got possessed by an alien sun. So, I’ve had worse..I said that little line to Martha right before she put me in a medical freezer,” the Doctor retold.  
  
The Doctor continued to rest, with Donna deciding to lie down next to him, in case he had a nightmare.  
  
****************************  
Donna woke up to find the Doctor laying in his coat, sneakers and pinstripe trousers, the whole get up. A thermometer next to him read 42 degrees. Donna sat up in a shock.  
  
“Burn with me, Donna..” the Doctor muttered, before grasping her hand suddenly. Donna wriggled her hand out and put both hands on the Doctor’s chest checking his pulse on his throat.  
  
‘ _3..2..1_ ’ the Doctor counted inside his head with a slight smile.  
  
The Doctor yelled “Gotcha!” and jumped up and tickled Donna, who screamed in surprise.  
  
“Oh My God, I nearly had a heart attack!” she exclaimed.  
  
“Sorry,” the Doctor chuckled.  
  
He took the barely visible piece of plastic off the thermometer, showing Donna his actual temperature.  
  
“Look, Donna. 14,9. I’m .1 degrees too _cold_ ,” he said with a huge grin.  
  
“Well, good thing you were wearing your coat then,” Donna remarked, before yanking it off him, and marching strictly over to a hook and hanging it back up.  
  
“You still shouldn’t heat yourself up again like that,” she instructed. “But you’re better that’s good. How about we go get some more lemonade and watch TV?”  
  
“Absolutely!” the Doctor cheered, jumping happily out of bed. As soon as his feet were on the ground, his bladder spasmed, making the Doctor quickly raise his left leg, holding it close to his right thigh, doing his best to _hold it in_.  
  
“But first, _I_ , apparently have to void the last batch,” the Doctor remarked, grabbing his crotch and half-sprinting to the loo. The Doctor could be heard sighing loudly in relief as he peed.  
  
The rest of the day went by with much fewer urinary interruptions. At least, fewer by recovery standards.  
  
The End.


End file.
